


The Ring of Fire

by papyrus4sirus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papyrus4sirus/pseuds/papyrus4sirus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with a drive-in movie. (Basically porn and PWP?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ring of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off the gif-set posted on tumblr by Jennycockles and also based off the Johnny Cash song “Ring of Fire.”

There was a moment when Dean’s feelings shifted. It was hard to pinpoint when. But it was bad, and it had him falling in a downward spiral. It was unsettling when he realized every good intention directed towards his little brother had an ulterior motive. He tried not to give it much thought, loathe as he was to acknowledge his darker half.

“Hey, Sammy,” he approached his brother one afternoon, feeling pretty smug with himself. Sam didn’t look up but continued to do his homework, “Guess who has two tickets to the midnight showing of Jumanji down at the drive-in?”

That got his attention. Sam looked up and a smile cracked across his face, “No way! Really, Dean?”

“Of course, I know you’ve been goin’ on about it.” Dean smiled brightly and sat next to his brother, holding the tickets in front of his face. Sam plucked them out of the air and said a quiet “thank you”.

Jump ahead six hours and Dean is feeling antsy. They’re settling into the impala, about to make their way to the drive-in. Sam has been extra chatty since Dean procured the tickets this afternoon. It’s a pleasant change from how moody Sam has been lately; Dean can’t help but beam in the driver’s seat, knowing that it was he who made his kid brothers day. Dean figured the grumpiness had to do with the long absence of their father who was currently on a hunt. Dean is also annoyed with their dad for denying Dean the opportunity to join him. He’s been 19 for a month now and he’s handled worse; but irritation aside, Dean can’t help but be glad to have a respite from his dad since it means time alone with Sammy.

Once there, Sam jumps out of the car to get pop-corn and Dean affixes the speakers to the impala. He’s always loved drive-ins and so has Sam, but as the years go by he’s noticed they’re becoming more and more obsolete. It’s best to make memories while he can.

Sam has slid back into the car and the grin on his face is worth everything. The fire that’s been burning Dean ignites with a new intensity. He can’t help himself. He slings an arm around Sam’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

“Hand over the popcorn, kiddo.”

“Not a kid, Dean.” Sam reminds with a note of exasperation in his voice. He sets the large bin of popcorn in Dean’s lap who quickly grabs a handful. Sam is still very much a kid; he won’t be 15 for another three months.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean says through a mouthful. The small body pressed to his side is proof enough that Sam is a kid. Well, teenager to be fair, but Dean doesn’t think about that. When the movie is about to begin Sam pulls out of Deans grip to get closer to the dash, and Dean lets go reluctantly. 

Dean finds himself watching Sam more than the movie, watching as expressions crowd in on Sam’s features, altering them in different and familiar ways. He’s bound to this kid, would give him the fucking world, his beautiful brother who looks up to him and relies on him. It’s moments like this where Dean knows he’s in the wrong, feels the weight of it like mortar and stone. But then there’s the fire which overrides the moral consequences, the one that’s been eating him up and making him scheme in ways he shouldn’t. He’s burning with a perverse love and he wonders how Sammy feels, if Sammy could love him the same, all wrong and right. He finds himself reaching out to Sam again, clamping a hand against the back of his brother’s neck and rubbing there. Sam looks over briefly and smiles before returning his attention to the film. It was an instant, a brief exchange of pupils and smiles but Dean feels momentarily sated, it’s the best reprieve he can get these days.

When they get back home Sam is talking about the movie still and asking Dean what his favorite parts were. Dean finds the conversation a little difficult since he was preoccupied most the film, but is able to participate none the less.

“The crocodiles were pretty cool.” Dean finds himself agreeing.

As they’re in the bedroom getting ready to turn in for the night, Sam walks up to Dean and says:

“Thanks, Dean, this has been great.” And he hugs him tightly, arms wrapping around Deans middle and Face buried in his chest. It takes Dean’s breath. He returns the embrace and doesn’t let go. Dean is falling deeper into the flames.

“Sammy.” He says softly.

Sam is silent.

“Sammy.” He says again, imploring his brother to understand what he’s going through without actually having to say a damn word. He looks down at where Sam is hugging him and Sam looks up to meet his eyes. They stare at each other for a few seconds. Their unspoken words cloud the air. A thousand understandings and none have passed through their eyes. Dean feels reckless and the fire burns. Before rationality kicks in, he’s claiming Sam’s mouth with his own.

Sam isn’t even momentarily stunned, he just kisses back eagerly; mouth and tongue fumbling in the way Dean hoped it would. Sam’s lack of experience goes straight to Dean’s dick and he wants his brother so bad it should make him sick to his stomach.

Dean lets go of Sam but doesn’t break contact from his mouth. He’s shedding his coat and wondering why the hell he’s letting any of this happen. He quickly remembers he’s actively been pursuing this moment for months, maybe longer. He can’t pin down that dark, scalding change in his affections.

Dean breaks the kiss.

He stares at Sam while he removes his own shirt. Sam’s eyes grow wide as they study Dean’s bare chest. Dean waits patiently. Sam drags his eyes back up and then he slowly takes off his own shirt, getting with the program. Dean smiles and saunters closer. He reaches down and begins unbuttoning Sam’s pants and easing the fly down. Sam goes rigid but doesn’t protest. His breathing has quickened and he stutters Dean’s name. Once he has Sam free of clothing, he wastes no time in effortlessly pulling Sam onto his lap so that Sam is straddling him. 

“Dean!” Sam whines. It irks him to be picked up so easily. It serves as a reminder of his age and size difference, which is the very reason Dean likes to pick him up. All those differences should make Dean feel guilty, but they don’t; if anything, they all mix together in a flavor that compliments the situation. This moment is perfect. Sam will get taller and bigger one day, but right now Dean loves him just the way he is.

Dean hushes him.

“You’re perfect, Sammy.” Dean whispers against Sam’s mouth, looks into his eyes. Sam can’t breathe. Dean grabs hold of Sam’s ass, forces their groins together. Dean guides their hips in a heated rhythm, still making eye contact which Sam falters at, preferring instead to hide his face in Dean’s neck.

“Kiss me again, Sammy.” 

Sam leans back and looks at his brother, arms slung awkwardly around Dean’s neck.

“You really think I’m perfect? Nobody’s perfect, Dean.”

“Nobody but you.”

Sam rolls his eyes. It sounds corny as hell, Dean has to admit. But it’s the god’s honest truth.

Dean moves his hands up to rest on either side of Sam’s face. His hands look big in comparison. His thumbs rub along Sam’s cheek bones. Since Dean sucks at communicating his affection, maybe his actions will make Sam understand. He leans in and presses his lips tenderly against his brothers. Sam slowly opens up and their tongues dual, experiment and play in each other’s mouths. Dean feels that wild desire building in him. They’re kissing more deeply and grinding more roughly when Sam breaks away.

“Your jeans hurt.”

Dean offers an apology then stands up and plops Sam down onto the bed. He shucks his jeans and boxers in record time and slithers across Sam’s body. He can tell Sam has taken an interest in his cock, and he smirks when Sam reaches out timidly. Dean takes hold of Sam’s hand and rests it on his dick. Together, Dean moves their hands back and forth along his shaft, watching as Sam bites his bottom lip. Their shared embrace on his cock feels amazing, but he wants to focus on Sammy, wants to consume every bit of him. He pulls their hands off and instead goes to work on kissing along Sam’s small chest and pink nipples. 

He takes his time and swirls his tongue along the dips and planes of Sam’s body, feeling the heat rise from his kid brother’s flesh. As he draws nearer to Sam’s groin he pauses and looks up.

“Can I?”

Sam looks simultaneously older and younger; and for a fleeting moment Dean’s sure he should run away and leave the kid alone. But it’s only fleeting.

“Yes.” Sam sounds determined and Dean is grateful because he’s not sure he could stop. He maneuvers each of Sam’s legs so that they rest up and over his shoulders as he sucks Sam’s cock. He feels the quiver of Sam’s thighs along his face and bobs his head faster in acknowledgment. Dean keeps a steady pace, alternates his hand and his mouth. Sam grows extra fidgety.

“Dean, I’m gonna come.” He warns in a shaky breath after hardly any time has passed. His small fists are clenching the bedspread. Dean seals his lips tight around Sammy’s shaft and sucks hard. Come splatters against his throat and he swallows it easily. Sam is twitching and panting below him, saying Deans name repetitively. Dean pushes Sam’s legs gently from him and raises up to place a kiss on Sam’s forehead.

“You okay baby boy?”

“Yeah…I’m good.” He smiles sort of lazily up at Dean, and in that moment he feels tension unraveling from his body; knows this is okay, even if it still really isn’t, because at least Sam is okay.

Dean’s cock is heavy and leaking. He’s surprised he hasn’t shot his load already. He lies down beside Sam and runs a hand along Sam’s stomach.

“Are you up for more, Sammy?” Dean’s certain he’s being selfish at this point, but he can’t deny how badly he wants to ride his baby brother. The thoughts and words in his mind all sound deliciously wrong.

“Yeah, Dean. I want you.” and there’s no mistaking the quiet sincerity in his voice. Dean kisses him roughly on the mouth and pulls Sam’s back to his chest so they’re lying on their sides.

“It’s gonna hurt at first, but it’ll get better.” Dean says gently, nuzzling his nose against Sam’s neck.

“Yeah I sorta figured.” Sam huffs.

Dean smirks and ruffles Sam’s hair; a gesture he knows will cause further irritation.

Dean reaches down and gently touches Sam’s hole. He plays with it, grazes over the ring of tissue and observes as Sam’s mouth parts slightly. He inserts one spit-slick finger slowly and feels the muscles contracting around him. Sam’s eyes flutter and close, so he adds another finger. He gradually picks up the pace and strokes his two fingers in and out while Sam moans. Dean is growing impatient and needy. He removes his fingers and instead spits into his hand once, and then twice for good measure. He works the saliva over his cock and against Sam’s ass. Dean’s left arm is wrapped around Sam’s chest and he uses his right hand to grab hold of the crook of Sam’s knee to raise his leg for easier access. Dean pushes closer against his body and rests his dick at Sam’s entrance. 

“You ready?” He asks.

Sam nods.

He pushes in slowly, holding firmly onto Sam’s chest for leverage while lifting Sam’s leg higher. Dean studies Sam’s profile as he drives deeper into him. His brows are knit tight and his mouth is drawn in a thin line. When Dean has made it all the way in he kisses Sammy’s temple and whispers words of encouragement. He starts slow, as slow as he can but it doesn’t last. The desire of it all and Sam’s extra tight ass are making him burn from the inside out. He pumps quicker into Sam. He alternates his focus from Sam’s face to his cock, which is slowly growing hard again, he watches as it bounces against Sam’s stomach with each thrust. 

“You’re perfect, Sammy.” Dean says again. 

Dean’s pounding hard into Sam’s ass. He’s close to coming. Sam is groaning, whether from pain or pleasure, Dean isn’t sure. With one last keen thrust into Sam, he spills his come and calls out Sam’s name. He pulls out of his brother and lowers his leg, but he keeps Sam held firmly to his chest. He runs his free hand through Sam’s sweat soaked bangs.

“You’re still hard baby boy; I’ll take care of you.” He removes his hand from Sam’s brow and wraps it around his cock.

“Is that good, Sammy?”

Sam replies with a strangled, “yes.”

“How good?” Dean slows the pace, stops altogether and waits for a response.

“Really good, don’t stop!” Sam sounds frantic.

Dean grins, and after four pumps Sam’s coming over his hand, his body trembling against Dean’s chest.

Dean takes the hand that’s covered in his brother’s semen and laces his fingers with Sam’s. The spunk squishes against their palms and Sam gripes about it.

“That’s gross.”

Dean chuckles and kisses Sam’s shoulder. They should get washed up, but Dean isn’t willing to move. He nestles closer to Sam, watching his breathing ease and steady. Dean feels the fire still burning, knows the flames belong to Sam. But it's a sweet ache and he’s happy to keep falling and burning forever


End file.
